Without
by Chainless
Summary: Those appendages were a burden, anyways. [RitsukaSoubi] Please R&R!
1. Chanceless

He is a butterfly, fanning those withered flames of the past.

His lips are a whisper of wings, delicate but pleading, passionate because if he _isn't_ the wind will carry him away. He is afraid to get lost in the breeze. He is a tattered and fragmented being, but determined.

Soubi is a broken butterfly, but _oh so_ determined he will fly again.

After all, this time he has Ritsuka.

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Hello, reader! This will be a collection of ficlets, featuring Ritsuka and Soubi from Loveless. Feel free to submit topics with your review- I've only got a couple in mind. That's right, I need _you_ to give me suggestions for what to write about next. All reviews are appreciated and keep me writing!


	2. Speechless

A flash of crimson and cadenced clicking, _I love you's_ spoken from the tips of fingers. _It's easier this way, when I don't have to control my voice._

_I appreciate you texting me, but I want to hear it for myself, Ritsuka._

_One day._ He is a mere boy, still stumbling in the game of life, so helpless in commanding his own tongue. Soubi isn't usually the type to wait, but he knows Ritsuka will confess verbally soon enough.

Until then, he is reassured by the words on his screen.


	3. Timeless

His skin is slight, quiet turns of satin and peach. The warmth is unending, the gasps and shied faces of one Ritsuka Aoyagi. These qualities, however, belong solely to Soubi (so said fighter claims).

Some days Ritsuka allows Soubi to lay his equally-tepid cheek against the sacrifice's chest, his alive heart. Moments like this they are nearly one, nearly completed by the other's presence. Nights such as this, Ritsuka doesn't argue. He _is _Soubi's.

And nothing else in the world could make as much sense as this does right now.


	4. Emotionless

When Soubi looks at Ritsuka, he is reminded of himself. Restricted, chained, and bound- his eyes impassive, yearning to satisfy those judging him.

_No_, _they aren't the same._ Soubi was taught to empty his thoughts to a plain that pain didn't exist within. He is frightened by it, yet drawn to its addictive, destructive embrace. The definition of pain was _stolen_ from him.

Ritsuka is eager to please, to prove his worth; for Seimei, for mother, for the truth. Soubi is both impressed and tormented by this fact. He wants his sacrifice to truly feel, for Soubi never got the chance. The memories he wants Ritsuka to create are happy ones, ones without pain.

Even if Soubi therefore isn't a part of them.


	5. Worthless

Ritsuka tells himself he's being realistic. He doesn't desire to hear those _three words_, a symphony of certainty from his fighter's lips.

_Do you mean that, Soubi? _That voice in the back of his head is so damn demanding. Lately, it's been tearing words out of his mouth, accusing words that deserve to stay on his tongue and not hanging in the silence.

_Was that an order from Seimei? _

The feeling residing in his stomach is confusing, the careful result of anxiety and anticipation and _whatever else it is_. Butterflies, chained and bound to his insides, jabbing at its walls and reminiscing freedom.

Ritsuka doesn't know what this is called. He hopes it isn't due to another of his brother's commands. Lately, they seem to be reigning over his life.


	6. Visionless

Some mornings, Ritsuka wakes up early to see the sun rise. His feet lead him to the balcony, cold against the dew-strewn underfoot as he rests his hands on the railing. The sun emerges from its nightly rounds, wearing a suit of white and orange that blinds his eyes. The light has such a Godly aura that the clouds part and the water fights to claim a glimpse of its reflection.

Truly, this is something marvelous.

_I wish you could see it, Seimei. _Ritsuka imagines that if he stares long enough, that if he burns the picture of this into his memory, then somehow his brother will see it too. Just maybe, Seimei was watching with him _right now_. Ritsuka closes his eyes and welcomes the sensation of utter peace.

Streets away Soubi's eyes are locked on the same sun, a smile set on his features and cigarette to his lips.

_I wish you could see it, Ritsuka._


	7. Regretless

Soubi is a flawed creature. His blank body has always urged attention, his skin always welcoming touch and scars. Anything to make him belong.

A name, something to stain his purity a violent crimson. His beautiful throat was tainted with that name, the marking of his Beloved. It was a masterpiece. It was _theirs._

He is now, however, under the possession of two beings. The most recent is a set of markings branded by his Ritsuka, something he can adorn and wear proudly. Beloved is a secret, a memory he and Seimei once shared, now shrouded with cloth and question.

It was inevitable that Soubi became a whiteboard of his past. He, like Ritsuka, is afraid of forgetting.


	8. Doubtless

There's a fire in his eyes. When he speaks of Seimei, in those rare moments spent just the two of them, it's then that Soubi is graced with a glimpse.

Like a flame on the wick does his slight body move, graceful and passionate. Ritsuka is sheer poetry- the flick of an ear, of a tail, those gapes and glares. Always flowing, the flames growing brighter as his will carries him throughout life.

The summers end, winters are fierce and though external Ritsuka is diminished his eyes aren't. The fire is eternal, something that distinguishes him from anyone else, as identifiable as a scar or tattoo.

Perhaps one day he'll allow Soubi to tame that fire. It's the piece of Ritsuka that Soubi first fell in love with, something he isn't willing to share. There's times he doubts even Ritsuka is conscious of it.

Soubi wants to protect that flame, he knows that above all. It is the sole meaning of his existence.


	9. Fearless

Soubi is a mystery. An obscured fragment of Ritsuka's dreams, a shadowed figure that never declares his intent. Around Soubi, Ritsuka is always in the dark. It is a scary place, a place where souls are swallowed whole and he can't find Seimei.

Soubi is a puzzle piece, a black one that fits somewhere in the night sky. It's not vital to the image, but instead to the grand picture.

To Ritsuka's heart, he is the missing piece.

And when Soubi rests a kiss upon the sacrifice's forehead and brushes his chin with his sheets, Ritsuka can't help but welcome incoming dreams of his mystery. Even if he never discovers those answers he seeks in his fighter, Ritsuka is momentarily content with being loved and accepted so.

Besides, with the lights out and Soubi so close, Ritsuka feels safer than he can ever remember being.

Mystery or not.


	10. Selfless

The room smells of cigarettes and humidity, of thickness clinging to nose and skin. The two named _Loveless_ move almost drunkenly, in and out of an uncontrolled dream-state led by their bodies.

The fighter scouts the younger's frame, trapping him although neither bear resistance. Kiss and touch fall into place as if fate had once mapped out such movement. The older leads, for he has more experience, for Ritsuka is too childishly eager and modest.

The world is a patchy collage that doesn't concern either of them. Now is lightheaded, comfortable and _so good_. Detached colors and fragrances scatter to sight, little dots and sighs- no, moans, no, _yes_…

Never before had they _truly_ shared a name, nor fathomed that one could feel such ignition of soul and sensation. Reality is a catnap away.

And Ritsuka doesn't need to tell Soubi that _he believes_. The feeling is mutual.


	11. Listless

The collage of noise occurring beyond his window. The digits of a clock. The presence of his cell phone, always waiting, all too tempting.

Ritsuka can't sleep. These are some of the few reasons why.

Somehow, when he goes to the route of the situation, it's always due to his fighter. The last words they exchanged, that pained look his eyes betrayed.

The curtains are still – _too_ still – despite the whisper of life outside of them. And Ritsuka is lonely, though he'd never admit to it aloud.

Only the pillows bear witness to his silent longing, as the night world revolves around them.


	12. Mindless

Soubi's canvas is bare, untainted and new, so much unlike himself. His paints lay untouched, brush warm in his hand and anticipating change, awaiting the white to dissolve into spring.

His heart sits in his fingers, leading them to the paper and striking it. A beautiful blue scars the canvas, and Soubi suddenly knows what to do.

He is still painting when Ritsuka enters his apartment, still too focused to look up until the younger speaks. "You didn't come pick me up today." Anger scratches at his throat, Soubi can hear it and he says nothing.

"Soubi!" Ritsuka's ears rest against dark hair as he approaches his fighter, fists clenched. It was a mistake to glance at the canvas; he stops and blinks, once, twice. His tone is a squeak, something muffled with confusion, awe. "Soubi…"

Soubi leans back, though his eyes stay firm on the art. "It's you."

Ritsuka doesn't question the evident delight upon his portrait's features. It is him, just him, just smiling and he wonders if this is how Soubi remembers him. "…Thank you. Can I keep it?"

Soubi wants to laugh. He loves the admiration on the younger's face, the cautious curiosity. He'll teach the sacrifice to paint someday. And if all he gets is that look of sheer happiness in return, it'd be worth it.

"Anything, Ritsuka. You can have anything."


	13. Songless

The sky flares with white/blue screams, drowning out the sound of silence. The voice of light and air are laced with the pain of a million, and Soubi can feel himself drawn to the tragically exquisite disaster. He wants to paint it.

Lately, even his paint shares the voice of another. A voice that rips him raw, exposes his insides to the breath of earth. That same voice that tore apart his innocence, who smiled and left it on the side of the road with a hand-made _free! s_ign.

But he is stronger like this, isn't he? Those appendages were a burden, anyways (were they truly?).

A roar illuminates his room. Once upon a time, this would have scared him. He is stronger now, but still dependant. The image of his young sacrifice colors closed eyelids. A blot of lightning, bright as diamonds, quick as a camera flash.

Soubi isn't used to being alone, not being weak. He can't.

Not when Ritsu-sensei taught him otherwise.


End file.
